Today is a Gift
by Jesspanda
Summary: Beth is shot in the head after stabbing Dawn, but that's not where her story ends. She's brought back to the very beginning, but can she survive?
1. Chapter 1

Her heart pounded in her chest, sending blood to her ears so that the only thing she could hear was the rapid beating. The adrenaline was coursing through her veins, and yet her mind was clear as day. There was only one option.

"I get it now."

The scissors almost slipped. With palms slick with sweat, she clenched her fist tight around the handles and with one quick thrust, brought them up and into Dawn's chest. There was resistance. For a split second her eyes met Dawn's and she realised the razor sharp edges had not made it through the Kevlar material of her vest. She didn't even realise Dawn had it on under her shirt.

The loud bang from the gun echoed in Beth's ears. Then there was blackness.

-.-

Her whole body shook as she gasped awake and rose to an upright position. Her throat was raw from screaming and tears poured down her face steadily.

"No!" Beth's hands crossed her stomach, lifting her shirt to reach for a bullet wound. Finding none, she traced her hands over her body, down to her legs and then up over her shoulders. There was no blood or pain and Beth dropped her head into her hands, sobbing.

A door creaked open close by and she turned away, not wanting to be comforted by the people stuck in Grady Memorial Hospital. Soft arms dropped down around her shoulders and Beth shrugged them off, moving further away on the bed she had been placed in.

"Bethy, what's the matter sweetheart?"

Beth stilled.

The lowly murmured tones drifted into her ears like a forgotten dream, "Did you have a nightmare honey?"

Beth's heart dropped into her stomach. The woman speaking, with her sweet southern twang and low pitched voice sounded just like her mother. She didn't want to look at her, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be someone else.

"Just leave me be. Tell Dawn I'll get back to work when it's light." Beth wanted to crawl under her blankets and never come out. It wouldn't be a good hiding place, but at least then her night time visitor would be inclined to leave. She could feel the bed dip and the springs squeak as her visitor took a seat beside her.

"Beth honey, who is Dawn?"

Beth lowered her hands. _'Who is… who is this woman?'_ She turned to face her, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

"Momma?"

Annette Greene smiled as she sat on her daughter's bed, dressed in a pink flannel nightgown. Her brunette hair was piled high in rollers and stray wisps of hair shaped her face. It was the most beautiful sight Beth had seen in the last three years.

She tentatively pressed her palm to her mother's face, and the instant they touched Beth let loose a loud sob, "She shot me Momma. She _shot_ me!" She fell forward into her mother's arms and continued to cry as her mother made shushing sounds. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

-.-

Beth woke slowly this time, listening to the sounds around her. Her mother was downstairs in the kitchen, humming as she often did when she made breakfast. There was birdsong floating in through the bedroom window and neighing from what sounded like horses in a stable a distance away. It reminded her of growing up on the farm and waking up to the usual farm noises. In fact, if she listened closely enough she could hear a tractor out in the back paddock.

"This must be what Heaven is." She mused out loud.

Beth opened her eyes, taking in the bright mid-morning sun and realised she was in her bedroom, the one she'd had since birth. She was home on the farm. She rubbed her tear-crusted lashes and stretched long across her bed. She turned her head and was greeted with the familiar knick knacks of her childhood. There was the riding trophy she'd received from a competition at the county fair, the heart-shaped photo frame with a picture of her and Jimmy at the Sadie Hawkins dance and her little beaded jewellery box.

 _'_ _It's all the same. As if nothing has changed.'_

Beth surveyed her room and found it as if she'd never left. After the walkers appeared and with the whole mess of Otis shooting Carl, Beth had shared her room with Maggie, not wanting to be alone at night. Now none of Maggie's clothes were strewn across the floor. It was almost unusually tidy.

Beth smiled. "I guess it's time to meet everyone."

She tiptoed over the creaky floorboard outside her room and made her way slowly down the stairs, cherishing the memories that came to her at every turn and corner of the house. As she suspected, her mother was in the kitchen, frying up some eggs and humming an old Johnny Cash song. She smiled and slipped past her and to the dining room, to find her father reading the morning paper with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.

"Morning Daddy," Beth announced her presence. Hershel Greene looked up at his youngest daughter and Beth could resist it no longer. She rushed to his side and enveloped him in a tight hug.

"I missed you," she whispered into his ear.

"Good morning doodlebug. How are you? Seemed you had a terrible night's sleep. Sit down with me and we can discuss it." Hershel folded his paper and placed it to the side as Beth lowered herself into the adjacent chair.

Beth smiled so wide her cheeks hurt and she took her father's right hand, holding it softly between her own, "I'm so happy to see you Daddy." Hershel smiled in return.

"I'm glad to see you smiling. You woke your mother and I with all your screaming last night Bethy. How're you feeling?"

Beth frowned and turned her thoughts inward, trying to understand the emotions she was feeling. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, she'd woken up knowing that she was safe and surrounded by the loved ones she had lost. Here in Heaven, in God's arms, she could finally relax and be at peace. It would only be a matter of time before the rest of the group showed up. She hoped they would have long and happy lives, somewhere safe.

She looked into her father's shining blue eyes, so much like her own, and smiled, "I feel… peaceful."

Her father sat, contemplating her statement. He opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted as her mother entered the dining room with a tray full of breakfast food. "Good morning Beth, are you feeling better?"

Beth closed her eyes as she inhaled the smell of her mother's home cooked meal. She nodded, "Yes I'm much better now."

She watched her mother set the table and when the food was placed in front of her, Beth dug in. At the first bite of runny eggs on toast, Beth moaned aloud, "Ohhh, this is delicious!"

Her mother laughed, "Well, I can't take the entire credit sweetie. Those hens have a tough time pushing eggs out day after day."

Beth grinned and looked over her parents. They were so happy, so full of life. They looked as if the horrors of the walking dead had never had any impact on them at all. As she ate, her parents started discussing the day's duties, her father mentioning seeing to a cow that looked ready to give birth over on the Johnson's farm and her mother's plan to meet up with her sister-in-law Susie.

As the conversation flowed, Beth's thoughts drifted to the family she left behind. She wondered what her sister Maggie and Glenn were up to, if they'd survived. Little Judith, was she out there somewhere? Hopefully she'd be with someone kind enough to sing her to sleep and to rub her stomach when she was restless. Daryl… how would he be handling her death? She didn't think he'd cry. He was strong, a survivor. He'd move on, but she'd miss him terribly. Rick, Carl, Michonne, Sasha, Bob, Tyrese, Carol, Noah, the rest of the people from the prison… hopefully they were all together and surviving.

Beth had finished the last bite and swallowed the last of her juice when her thoughts drifted to those they'd lost on the way. They must be waiting to see her, surely. She looked up at her parents, "When are we going to meet the others?"

Annette smiled, "What others, honey?"

Beth turned to her father, "Well, there's Shawn, Otis and Patricia to start with. Then we can go visit Lori, and T-Dogg… and Andrea, well she must be with her sister, don't you think? Do you think they're ready to meet me?"

Hershel frowned then, "Shawn's out working the fields. Otis and Patricia are probably at home, if you want to visit them. I don't know who those others were that you mentioned."

Beth stared shocked as her parents glanced worriedly at each other. A horrible feeling started in the pit of her stomach, _'What's going on? How can they not know?'_

"Bethy, are you okay?" Her mother had come around to her side of the table and placed a hand on the back of her head.

Beth brushed it off, "Yeah, I'm okay. Are _you_ okay?"

Her parents could only stare at her quizzically. She stood quickly from the table, worry eating away at her. How could they have forgotten their friends? Her mother was understandable, but her father? He'd been there when they all met on the farm. Beth started pacing back and forth across the room.

"Don't you remember Rick Grimes and his people, Daddy?" Beth implored of her father, "They stayed with us before the farm was overrun." Beth looked into her father's eyes, searching for signs of recognition. Hershel shook his head and Beth turned around, hand to her forehead. Her father couldn't remember a thing. _'Is this really Heaven?'_

"Now Beth, sit down, you're starting to worry me." Her mother pleaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to worry you Momma. I just-" Beth stopped, looking at herself in the faint reflection of the grandfather clock. Her hair, it was long, down to her waist and her cheeks, they were full, her eyes were shining and there were no lines on her face. She gingerly felt the strands on her head, pulling one out and away from her.

 _'_ _My hair hasn't been this long since before the turn…'_ Beth gasped and turned towards her parents, who both had concern in their eyes. She walked to the table and picked up the newspaper her father had been reading. The Times-Herald. She looked to the top, and what she saw, shocked her to the core.

 _'_ _It's… August 1_ _st_ _, 2009?'_

"What's the meaning of this?" Beth shook the paper in front of her, "Why is the date wrong? Where are the others?" She dropped the paper to the floor and watched her father stand, both legs whole and intact.

"Beth, what in Heaven's name are you talking about?" Her father rarely spoke in anger, but his voice was terse, questioning, worrying.

Beth felt cold all of a sudden. It was a chill, right down to her bones. Her stomach felt queasy and she swayed on the spot, "I… I'm not… not feeling well at all."

She looked back and forth between her parents and made a mad rush to the bathroom where she heaved the breakfast she'd just eaten. It didn't taste as nice coming up. She sat there, on the cold tile floor, hugging the porcelain seat, her mind whirling.

 _'_ _What's happened to me?'_

-.-

Well, that's a tentative start. I kind of had inspiration for this story in a spur of the moment so not much is planned out. I'm looking for someone to beta-read this fic for me. Tell me if you like it, I'd like to see what people guess is going to happen. xx


	2. Chapter 2

Beth lay in bed, eyes closed with an old tea towel wet and cooling, pressed to her forehead. After the shock of the morning, she had remained silent. Her parents had found her crying in the bathroom and had managed to coax her to her bedroom, where her father had done her blood pressure to assure that she was okay. With no visible signs of illness, her parents had decided she was still worked up over her night terror.

Since then she had not spoken, unable to put word to her thoughts. She watched her parents come in and out of the room throughout the morning, her mother having cancelled her plans to check up on her. Beth listened to the front door slam shut and the loud groaning exhale of her older brother Shawn as he came in for lunch. The sound made her flinch on the bed, reminding her of walkers. It was that sound which spurred her into decision.

 _'_ _I have to do something. I can't just sit here and go comatose. Not again.'_ Beth remembered the time shortly before she'd foolishly cut her wrists, lying comatose with open eyes unseeing, in the guest bedroom downstairs.

 _'_ _I'm different now. I've changed and I am strong.'_

Beth pulled the towel from her forehead and set it beside her on the bed. She stretched her arms above her head and plastered a smile on her face. Her family wouldn't see the broken beast of her soul, but at least they'd stop worrying about her. Hopefully they'd give her a little space and she would have time to investigate what had happened since she was shot by Dawn.

As she made her way downstairs for the second time today, Beth dragged her fingers along the painted wooden-panelled walls of her childhood home, _'This old place is still standing after_ six _generations of Greene's. I hope we won't have to leave again.'_

Entering the dining room she smiled wide at the familiar site of Shawn, sitting with his feet up on the dining room table, waiting for their mother to bring him some lunch. In an impulsive move, she knocked his feet off of the table, "Momma would pull your ears if she saw you putting your feet up there Shawn."

Shawn grinned, "I was just trying to relax, and unlike you I don't get to laze around the house all day."

Beth huffed, and reached down to wrap her brother into a tight hug.

"Hey, what's this for?" her brother sounded surprised and he tugged at the ponytail she'd hastily pulled her hair into.

"Mmm, just 'cause." Beth whispered as she squeezed her brother tight, not minding that he was dirty, sweaty and likely about to flick her ear to try and annoy her.

He did flick her ear and Beth laughed as she pulled away, having missed the close moments she used to share with Shawn. Only three years older, he had always been her confidant and they'd gotten up to a heck of a lot of mischief when they were younger.

 _'_ _Hopefully, we've got plenty more time to get into mischief.'_ She thought longingly.

"Good gracious! Sweetie, are you up to have lunch?" Annette Greene walked into the room, a light pink apron loosely fitted around her frame.

"Yeah, sorry to give you such a scare this morning Momma. My nightmare really got to me." Beth shrugged. Her mother approached and pulled her into a strong embrace.

"Well, I'm glad." Her hand smoothed over Beth's forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Come into the kitchen and get it, you two."

The two siblings followed their mother into the kitchen and tucked into their turkey sandwiches. Beth rolled her tongue around her mouth, savouring the sweet cranberry sauce. _'The last time I had cranberry sauce was Thanksgiving before the dead started walking.'_ Beth realised.

 _'_ _Thanksgiving… If it's really August, then Thanksgiving is coming up in a few months.'_ Beth wondered if after New Year's they'd start hearing about people getting sick again. What had first started off in India and parts of China, a few cases of the illness known as The Fever grew steadily. Travel was restricted to and from those countries, but it still spread. As soon as the first case hit London, it had become an epidemic. The news had footage of countries worldwide, and in all the locations, there were people wearing masks going about their daily business as well as imaged of people suffering and in pain. It was enough to have frightened Beth when she first saw them.

Beth shook her head, _'It's not the same. I can't have travelled into the past, it's not possible.'_

The voice in the back of her head which sounded suspiciously like Daryl replied, _'Ain't the dead risin' s'pose to be impossible?'_

Beth shuddered as she pondered on what was happening to her. _'It can't have all been a dream… right? I have to find out… somehow.'_

Questions left unanswered, Beth finished her sandwich and turned to place her dish in the sink. She rinsed the plate and decided that maybe she could research the illness, or even look up dreams and psychosis or just _anything_ to find an answer to what had happened. Decision made she turned to her mother, "Can I use the computer for a while? I want to look up what my dream could mean."

Annette sighed, "I don't know… Should you really be thinking about such a bad dream? I've never seen you so frantic honey."

Shawn dropped his plate loudly into the sink, "You mean that's why you were screaming last night?"

Beth shrugged her shoulders and turned her head away from him. If he could see into her eyes, he would know she was lying. "Yeah, I woke up still thinking I was in my dream. Gave Momma and Daddy a scare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her brother asked.

Beth plastered on another smile and shrugged, "I'm okay. I just feel like there's some sort of _meaning_ to it, you know?"

Annette chuckled, "Sweetie, I grew up in the seventies, I think I have some dream interpretation books locked away up in the attic if you want them? They might be a bit outdated, but they're there."

Beth nodded at her mother, "And the computer?"

"All yours."

-.-

Beth pulled out the chair to the old computer desk and sat down on the worn out leather seat. Located in the neat little office was the computer, only two years old. It had been bought before her brother's last year of high school so that he could write up any assignments and do his school work. It had since been utilised to help with the farm and for Beth to use for school as well. Beth logged into her computer account and brought up the Google homepage on the internet.

"Where do I even start?" She pondered aloud.

Without much to go on, she researched 'The Fever', with no result. _'Maybe dreams research?'_ Beth wrinkled her nose and typed 'violent dreams' into the search bar and browsed through the thousands of results.

"Dreaming of committing a murder or violence is a reflection of your inner feelings…" She muttered, "No, that's not me at all."

So she searched 'dead people rising'.

"Oh great, weird conspiracy theories," Beth snorted and scrolled down through the myriad of results finally coming across something that looked interesting.

"African scholars declare the dead can rise as slaves… Hmmm…" Beth furrowed her brows as she researched. _'A Vodou priest may raise a spirit who lingers at the grave. At best they can be helpers and at worst, slaves... No, that don't sound right either!'_

Beth sighed, elbows resting on the desk, "What next?"

Her thoughts drifted back to her former companions and friends. They had become family in the time they had spent together and she would have done anything for them. Without them here, it was like she was missing a limb. She hadn't felt so bad since her Daddy had been killed at the prison. Beth squared her shoulders and promised to herself to try harder.

"I can do this, I can find my family."

On a whim, she searched 'Daryl Dixon'. She giggled when the results showed a Daryl Dixon who was the executive chairman of a lawyer firm. The old, white haired man was definitely not her Daryl Dixon. But she was saddened at the thought of never being able to see Daryl again. They'd become so close in the time together since the fall of the prison. She remembered the look in his eyes in the funeral home and her heart ached.

Her next input was 'Rick Grimes'. What she saw made her gasp.

Under King County Police Department's website was the name Rick Grimes. She hurriedly clicked and waited for the page to load. Those three seconds seemed like a lifetime and as the pictures finally appeared, Beth was brought to tears. Smiling, for the entire world to see, was a picture of Rick with another man. The caption read 'Interim Chief of Police Eric D. Stiles with Deputy Sheriff Rick Grimes'.

"Oh god… he's real, I'm not going crazy." Beth laughed, sniffling through her tears of joy. She found contact information for the police department and scribbled down the phone number.

Sliding on her chair across the width of the desk, Beth picked up the cordless phone sitting to the side. Without hesitating she dialled the numbers and the phone rang.

"You've reached King County Police Department, Sherry speaking, how may I help you?" An elderly-sounding lady announced.

"Uhm, h-hi," Beth stuttered. She was in such a rush to finally contact someone who would _know_ what she was talking about, that she wasn't sure what to say. Beth held the phone to her ear in her right hand and twirled her hair around with her left. _'_ _What do I say? What do I say?'_

"Are you able to speak? Is there a threat?" Came the worried voice of Sherry.

"No!" Beth gasped out, "I'm fine, sorry, I-I've got a dry throat. Couldn't talk for a moment." She laughed nervously.

"Well how can I help you, miss?" Sherry started to sound impatient.

"Well, I, uh, I was wondering if Rick Grimes was working today?" Beth queried, crossing her fingers.

"He certainly is. Would you like to speak to him?"

Beth's heart felt as if it had jumped out of her chest, "Yes please."

"May I ask who's calling?"

Her own voice sounded distant to her ears as she replied, "A friend."

"Okay, one moment please," She heard the dial tone change back to ringing, the call being directed to another phone.

"Hello, this is Rick Grimes." The low dulcet tones of the leader of their group felt wonderful to Beth's ears. It was a sound she hadn't heard in months, and she wanted to cry harder at hearing it. If only she could be meeting him and the group again in person, they would hug and cry together. Carl would flirt and she'd laugh him off. Beth drew out of her thoughts, clutching the phone tight in her hands as she breathed heavily into the mouthpiece.

"Rick…"

"Yes ma'am? May I ask who's speaking?"

She frowned, "It's Beth."

"How can I help you Beth?" Rick's voice was questioning, carefree. It worried her. The man she'd grown to care for was terse, stressed. He hadn't sounded so happy in such a long time. Beth breathed harder, panicking.

"It's me, Beth. Don't you remember?"

There was silence from the other end of the line and for a moment she feared he had just hung up. He was taking too long to answer and she grew fidgety with nerves.

"I don't remember, sorry. Are you ah… looking for Shane?" Rick sounded confused.

Beth hung up and slammed the phone down onto the desk in her frustration.

"Shane?" Beth growled, "Rick Grimes is alive, and he doesn't remember me. What is going on?"

She pulled herself back to the computer and tried searching for every other person that had been in their group, to no avail. She realised that she didn't even know many of their surnames. If Rick was alive, the others had to be alive and so she would continue her search to find out what had happened.

With little else to go on, Beth sighed, deflated, "I can't be stuck in the past, can I?"

-.-

I certainly didn't mean to update so soon. And… I was planning a whole different chapter, so this was a surprise. I want to hear what you all think of this story. Thanks for those who have followed, favourite and reviewed. It means a lot.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner that night was a quiet affair. She wasn't up to much talking after her fruitless search, so she listened as her father gave thanks and her mother told them all about her phone call to Maggie who was living in Atlanta studying business. Beth ate everything on her plate, not wanting to waste any food. She ate until she felt like her stomach would burst. While she was grateful that her family was whole and happy again, even Maggie up in Atlanta, she couldn't stop that itch in her brain telling her that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

 _'_ _I wonder what's going to happen. And… If everything's going to happen the same way all over again, can I change it? Can I save Momma, Shawn and Daddy?'_ The thought made Beth smile wide. She brought the spoon to her lips and chomped happily at her vegetables.

The clinking of chinaware around her came to a stop and Beth was suddenly aware of the lull in conversation. She lifted her head from her plate and looked around at her family. They were all sitting back, watching her eat. Without realising, she'd taken a second and then third helping of food, and was grinning madly as she ate.

Before the end of the world as she knew it, Beth had never had issues with food. After the dead started walking, food became scarce and was never wasted. In the prison, perishable food had always been used up as quickly as possible, and because they'd sometimes spent days on rationed muesli bars and canned beans, she'd learnt to eat to fill her stomach just in case she wouldn't get to eat again for a while.

She remembered her time in the funeral home with Daryl, where she'd eaten directly out of a jar filled with peanut butter. Beth sighed at the thought, _'Momma would have scolded me for doing such a thing at home. I've been treating this dinner like it's my last meal. Time to act normal, Greene.'_

She smiled, shrugging her shoulders, "I'm mighty hungry tonight."

Shawn laughed, "You're eating enough for a football team!"

Beth ducked her head, and finished the food on her plate.

"I'm going out for some groceries tomorrow if you'd like to come with me Beth?"

She smiled up at her mother, "Sure."

The family worked as a unit cleaning the table and washing the dishes. It was the quiet, peaceful times like this which she remembered most fondly. Glad to be surrounded by the people she loved, Beth started humming a familiar tune. One she hadn't wanted to think of since her father had died. Warmth filled her chest, burning like a slow heat. Her woes from earlier in the day were slowly fading. Words bubbled up from deep inside her soul, slowly at first, and then gaining strength.

"Of all the money that e'er I had, I've spent it in good company. And all the harm that e'er I've done, alas it was to none but me."

Her mother joined her, their voices harmonising as she'd done with Maggie in what seemed like a life time ago on that bare prison field. As she glanced around the kitchen, watching her family happily doing mundane chores, which she'd never liked but somehow _missed_ when she could no longer do them, Beth was filled with gratitude. Gratitude that she'd have the chance to experience being wrapped in her mother's arms once more, that she could converse with her father, that she could tease her brother, and that she had the chance to _change_ things.

"And all I've done for want of wit, to mem'ry now I can't recall. So fill me with the parting glass, goodnight and joy be to you all."

-.-

Beth leaned over, reaching into the chicken coop. After a restless night's sleep, filled with nightmares of dead people reanimating, she was glad to be starting off her day with some farm work. The work was easy and her body fell quickly back into the repetitive motions as her mind wandered.

 _'_ _When you eliminate everything, including the impossible, whatever you have remaining must be the truth… I never thought time travel would be my truth though.'_ Beth remembered the saying – or was it a quote? She couldn't quite recall. It set her mind spinning at the implications. With her knowledge and experience, she could potentially save a lot of lives. Or she could wait it out, see if she really was in the past. She groaned in frustration. With no instructions, how was she supposed to know what to do?

 _'_ _I can't exactly make a call to the White House…'_

Having fed the animals, mucked the stables and finished collecting the eggs, Beth made her way slowly down towards the barn. It stood tall and proud in the sunlight, the red paint was chipped and cracked in places, but it was whole. The front door was wide open, and she shivered when she remembered having her dead family and friends stumble, groaning, out of that wide door. Placing the basket of eggs down at her side, she approached the entrance.

Gone was the stench of death and decay. The inside was clean, the tractor parked next to the farming equipment. Beth walked inside shivering, not because it was cold, but because of the memories. Only twice had she fed the walkers which had resided in the barn. After climbing in through the window to the hay loft and throwing down a live chicken, she'd looked on horrified at the sight of her family and friends tearing it to pieces with their bare hands. She'd thought she'd never get the sound of the chook screaming and squawking out of her head, but now she couldn't recall it at all. In its place was the sound of the moans and groans of the dead.

Her father hadn't let her feed them again after the second time, when she'd been sick at the sight. Beth winced, and turned away towards the barn's exit.

 _'_ _I never want it to come to that, ever again. I know now. I know the difference between dead and alive. If I have to, I'll give them a peaceful rest, not leave them to wander the world forever hungry.'_

She shuddered, _'No, this time I'll save them. They'll never have to feel that pain.'_

Resolve hardened, Beth made her way back up to the farm house, picking up her basket of eggs as she went. The sun was blaring down across the farm and her father had predicted, with help from the radio's weather forecast, that they may get 90 degree heat over the middle of the day, so she was glad to get out of the sunshine and into the shade. A light breeze cooled the sweat on her cheeks and neck.

Her mother was waiting, donned in a light green summer dress and yellow wide brimmed hat. The outfit brought a smile to her face, as she remembered her mother wearing the outfit often in the warmer weather. It was one of her favourite ensembles, and sometimes Beth tried to match, in a pale yellow summer dress, with a green polka-dotted bag.

"Beth, hurry and get ready or we'll be late."

Of course, how could she forget? Every Sunday her family would attend the 11am service at the First Baptist Church in the middle of town. She could hear her father plodding around upstairs, and she jumped as the back door slammed, Shawn stumbling into the home. Beth nodded her head and rushed up the stairs to claim the shower first.

After thoroughly scrubbing clean, she stood in the shower under the spray of scalding hot water.

 _'_ _Oh Lord, I never want to leave this shower. You wouldn't be upset if I missed today's sermon, would you?'_ Beth tilted her head skyward, receiving no answer.

Sighing, she turned off the faucet and readied herself for church.

-.-

The service itself was shorter than she remembered. Having been brought up believing and loving God, Beth had always enjoyed attending church. She loved sitting in the pews with her friends and singing the songs, and she'd even joined the choir group, but somehow the services always seemed to take _forever_. She knew the messages passed to them from Pastor Malloy were meant to be insightful and thought provoking, but at times they were tiring, and drawn-out. So she was surprised that today she felt as if the service was over before it really began.

She honestly couldn't remember a time when the church was so full. People were bustling around, making coffee and handing out cookies, chatting about the sermon or their plans for the rest of the day. It was a vast difference to the quiet, frightful hospital she'd last remembered being around so many people. And it was somehow worse than having lived in a prison with people she'd come to love like close family. It was worse because her gut instinct was telling her that these people were just walker bait.

A hand at her elbow startled her so violently that she dropped her green polka-dotted bag and jumped around into a defensive stance. She stared into her mother's confused eyes. She could feel the stares of the church patrons around her. She lowered her arms, not having realised that she'd raised them, and picked up her bag.

"Sorry to scare you sweetie." Her mother's voice was quiet and calm, as if trying not to scare a doe. "Are you okay?"

Beth shrugged, "Ain't nothin' Momma."

She closed her eyes, knowing immediately that she'd sounded just like Daryl Dixon, _'I guess after living with Daryl for three months, his words and actions kinda rubbed off on me.'_

Her heart felt a pang, missing him greatly. He'd become her rock, someone to lean against in the toughest of times, and he'd leant on her too. She knew that they could share things with each other that they couldn't with other people. Mostly, she missed his quiet understanding. And that look. The one he'd given her in the funeral home. It made her heart beat quicken and her chest tighten. She shook her head, trying to put aside the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

"I mean, I'm sorry Momma. You gave me a fright. I'm fine, just startled." She tried to explain away her actions.

"Hmm..." She could feel her mother studying her face, "Okay then. Well, come with me down to the Food Mart while your father catches up with Pastor Malloy and Reverend Talley. Shawn's gone off for the afternoon with his friends, so we've got about half an hour until we have to be back."

Beth nodded, following behind her mother. They exited the red bricked building and took the Honda three streets down to the Food Mart. They entered the modest sized grocery, the air conditioning a relief from the hot Georgia sun. Beth gazed about in wonder at all the food on the shelves. It was like a veritable gold mine with canned goods, fresh fruit and vegetables, meats, and even _milk_. Beth shuddered, _'_ _I almost forgot about milk…'_

Old Mr Palmer who owned the building had barred the windows and doors when the world went to hell and the dead started walking. Maggie had come back from a run with Otis one day and said the place had been looted. They'd even driven past on their flee from the farm, and she'd seen the door barred up, but boards from the windows had been ripped down, surrounded by shattered glass.

She followed her mother, who was pushing a trolley, around the isles. She watched her mother consider items, picking them up and either placing them in the trolley or back onto the shelf. Beth wanted nothing more than to clean out the isles and take all of the food home.

"What do you feel like for dinner?" Her mother asked.

She shrugged, "Anything is fine."

Her eyes were drawn to the peanut butter sitting on the shelves. She hesitantly picked up both the crunchy and smooth types, undecided. They'd both be sweet, which is all she really cared about when it came to peanut butter, but she'd never preferred one more than the other. With a slight smile and an aim to take one up to her room, hidden from prying eyes, later that night and eat directly from the jar, Beth slipped the jars into her bag.

"Bethany Anne Greene!" She turned around at the sound of her mother's gasp, "What on earth do you think you're doing young lady?"

She frowned at her mother, standing with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. "What do you mean?" She asked honestly.

"In all my years…" Her mother trailed off.

"Momma?"

Her mother crossed the floor quickly, snatching her bag from her hands, "Shoplifting? Beth, how could you do such a thing?" She reached inside and pulled out the jars.

 _'_ _Oh,'_ Beth mused, _'_ _I forgot about shoplifting.'_

"I wasn't thinking," she quickly spoke, "I meant to put them in the trolley."

"I'm _sure_ you did," her mother shot her a stern look, usually reserved for Maggie's wrong-doings. "I think we're done here."

They made it through the checkout, peanut butter and all, and picked her father up from the church. The whole ride, her mother refused to speak, even to her own husband. Beth stared out the window, trying hard not to meet her mother's eyes in the rear view mirror. She knew she was in trouble, and she was sorry that her mother was upset, but she just couldn't find it in herself to care that she'd been caught shoplifting.

-.-

So there's chapter 3. It was harder to write than I was expecting, but the pace of the story should pick up a bit from here. I spent a couple of days planning what I want to happen over the next few chapters, which is why it took this long to get the chapter out. Thankyou to my reviewers: Spoonlicker, nightdrive23 and Maya.


	4. Chapter 4

They'd pulled up to the house, gravel crunching under the tires, and Beth knew her mother was still angry by the way she slammed the car door shut. Sitting sullenly in the backseat, she contemplated whether or not she should be exiting the car and following her mother up the front porch and into the house. After the dead started walking, she'd have given anything to hear her mother's voice just one more time, but now she wasn't even sure she wanted to hear it at all. It would be angry. Upset. But the disappointment in that sweet southern twang would be the most unbearable for her. She'd never meant to disappoint her mother.

Beth was startled out of her thoughts when her father spoke, "Whatever you've done, best make it up to her."

She met his eyes in the rear view mirror and nodded her head solemnly. Of course she would make it up to her mother. She just had to find the courage to face her first. Her father sat there, musing over what had gone wrong, and she wished she could see into his mind, or let him see into hers. Then he would understand what was wrong. But it would be too much. He would see how much she had changed - what she'd had to do - and she never wanted her father to see that side of her. She never wanted to see the love he had for her leave his eyes.

Beth sighed as she followed her father out of the car. They made their way slowly up to the door, but her father turned, blocking her entrance.

"Let me cool her temper a little, Bethy. Then we can discuss whatever problem your mother has, calmly." He stepped inside.

Beth closed her eyes, wincing at the thought of the family discussion that would happen after her parents had spoken. While she had intended to take the peanut butter jars, it was genuinely a mistake on her part for forgetting the world she currently lived in. The world she remembered, the one which was _so_ _fresh_ in her mind, had changed quickly. Laws had been broken and then forgotten entirely. It was every man, woman and child for themselves. She'd seen it every day, and she'd eventually been a casualty of the lawless country that had become so much worse than it ever was.

With a frame-wracking shudder, Beth stepped aside and away from the closed door. She sat carefully down onto the rocking chair on the porch and listened to the murmuring voices coming from the living room. She could already tell that her mother was terse and angry, but her father's soothing tone, never raising in anger, calmed her nerves.

It seemed like seconds, but had in fact been twenty minutes, when her father finally stepped back outside to meet her. His good suit – worn every Sunday - still looked fresh even though he'd been wearing it for a few hours, and he fiddled with his tie, loosening it from around his neck as he sat on the bench beside her rocking chair.

"Your mother tells me she caught you shoplifting."

It was a bold - and true - statement.

Beth nodded her head, "I wasn't thinking, Daddy. It was an accident."

Her father leveled her with a stare. His light blue eyes were so much like her own, but they felt as if they were piercing into her very soul. He was measuring her words against those of her mothers, she was sure of it. "Your mother told me you'd said that."

Her shoulders, which she hadn't realised had been tight with tension, relaxed. She hung her head, grateful that her father believed her. Hopefully they could just move past this awful mistake she'd made.

"But she was more disappointed by the fact that you don't appear to be sorry or repentant. At all."

Her head snapped up at the comment, and she stared at her father with shock.

"I can see now that she was correct. You've not apologised to me _or_ your mother. Thou shalt not steal, Bethy. It's one of the Ten Commandments, and one which I'd never thought you would break. It may have been an accident, but being sorry and asking forgiveness is what makes us good people and good Christians."

Beth hung her head once more, feeling properly chastised. _'But… Daddy, I don't think I_ am _a good Christian anymore. Not after everything I've done.'_

She couldn't put voice to her thoughts, and so she remained silent. Her father took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"Come help me bring the groceries in. Then I want you up in your room for the rest of the day, thinking about what you've done. _Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord._ "

Feeling reprimanded, Beth understood that the quote her father had delivered was in fact his instruction for her. She was, in laymen's terms, grounded.

She watched as her father opened the boot of the car and pulled out three bags of groceries. There was too much for one person to carry to the kitchen, so she rose from her position and joined her father. It was as she was first reaching into the back of the car when she saw the can of beans. She'd just been scolded for stealing, and she didn't regret a thing as she scooped the can up, along with a few others, and placed them in her polka-dotted bag.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she brought the grocery bags into the house. She shuffled quietly past her silent mother, not wanting to be caught, placed the bags onto the counter and quickly fled to her room. Beth closed and locked her bedroom door. She knew if she was caught, that she would look crazy, but as she reached into her closet, placing the cans behind a box stuffed with old toys, the only thought running through her mind was, _'Just in case.'_

-.-

Beth had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling for the last hour, trying to pull remorse for her actions from deep inside her soul. It wasn't working. It probably had to do with the fact that after almost stealing from the store, she'd taken food from her family not even an hour later. That, as well as the fact that she wasn't sorry at all.

 _'_ _At least we can go back and buy more if we need to.'_ She felt a sort of relief at the thought and maybe she _had_ been feeling a little guilty. Just the tiniest bit. Teeny-tiny, really.

 _'_ _I think the best thing I can do is plan for it. If nothing happens… Well, every family has at least one crazy relative, don't they?'_ She snorted at the thought. That time-old saying came to mind. _'Better safe, than sorry.'_

Being restricted to such a small space was grating on her nerves. She kept glancing left and right, from the door to the window and back again. Checking her exits. It was a habit practically - but not actually - beaten into her after she'd been on the run for so long. She knew this house like the back of her hands, but she was afraid that at any moment she would blink, and open her eyes to find she was still in that sterile white hospital room.

It was driving her stir crazy. In fact, the whole day just seemed to be one horribly long affair. One thing she definitely missed was being treated like an adult. Technically she was sixteen, but she had the mentality and experiences of a nineteen year old woman who'd had to grow up in particularly hard times. If only her body was the same to go along with her memories. She was about two inches shorter than she remembered being, and her muscles were used to farm work, but not the hard, harsh lifestyle she'd lived while on the run.

Beth felt an electric pulse of energy flow through her body all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the boredom, or perhaps it was just sheer determination not to be weak anymore, but she pulled off her yellow church dress and dug around in her drawers for her loose fitting blue gym shorts and grey tank top. She'd never really made any effort to work out, not having been good at any sports at school. She may have looked like the cheery sort, but she wasn't a strong and muscular gymnast or cheer leader.

She sat heavily on the floor, lay down and placed her hands behind her head. She managed only five sit ups before her stomach muscles felt like they would burn right off of her body. Irritated at her lack of strength, she turned over and tried push ups. These, she was better at. She could easily do ten, and any after that, it felt like she was lifting a semi-trailer off of her back. Surely it couldn't be _this_ hard?

She'd seen Michonne work out around the prison, moving her legs back and forth while she did sit ups, looking like she was riding an upside down bicycle. Beth had played with Judith in the kitchen once when Carol had even joined the samurai. She regretted never having made the effort herself.

 _'_ _I can't be this weak, surely?!'_ Beth lay on her back, panting. _'I've got to make some sort of training regime. Maybe join a boot camp or something?'_

But the town didn't have any boot camps, at least none that she was aware of. She'd have to make up her own routine, something to whip her into shape and yet not be too obvious. The most important thing is that she needed to be able to run when the time came. Her legs needed to be stronger, her body needed to be more used to more physical exercise.

So after dinner, Beth pulled her diary from her bedside drawer, ripping out pages full of dreams and emotions she couldn't even remember having written so long ago - although going by the dates, she'd only written the last entry five days ago. She stenciled up a schedule, and the next morning before the sun rose, she was up, jogging around the farm yard.

She'd made it as far as the lake before she had to sit down, puffing and out of breath. Wiping sweat from her brow, she felt as if her body would collapse if she even moved. Perhaps outright sprinting wasn't the way to go. And she'd definitely overestimated how much her body could handle. Having done chores early in the mornings for the majority of her life, Beth had assumed she'd be able to keep up a running pace for much longer than she had. But she got up and tried again. She had to make sure she was ready.

 _'_ _But is this all I can do?'_

She let her mind wander to the cans tucked away in her closet. Should she try to collect more than just food? She didn't know if she could constantly take things from the kitchen cupboard without being noticed. Her meager allowance was five dollars a week, and only if she did all of her farm chores. She'd been saving to buy a guitar originally, so she already had sixty dollars in a pink piggy bank on the desk in her room. It wouldn't buy much at all.

What would they need? Guns and ammo? Candles? Her mind spun around and around. She could think of over a hundred useful items to buy so that her family could safely survive the reanimated dead. She was sure the hunting stores would have all the supplies they'd need. But how could she buy anything? Her head almost hurt at the thought process. Should she prioritise certain items?

She didn't realise she'd kept a steady pace, mind distracted from her run, until she ran full-force into her brother who had been coming around from the back of the house to start his day. He yelped and they toppled into the garden her mother had grown.

"Beth? What the heck are you doing running around at this time of the morning!?" Her brother was more shocked than angry.

She stood and dusted her sweatpants, "Just running."

Shawn raised a brow, seemingly reclining in the flowerbed, and in the distance they could hear the rooster crowing. "Running?"

"Yep!" She gave her brother a hand up and then made her way towards the house.

"You're weird, you know?!" He shouted at her turned back.

"Not as weird as you!" She flipped him the bird, but he'd already turned around.

Beth lowered her hand, shocked with her own actions. _'What? Did I just – Oh darn, I might as well cut off my shirt sleeves and call myself a Dixon. I have really taken on too many traits from Daryl.'_

She giggled at the horrified - but secretly pleased - gasp Maggie would have taken had she seen her sister make such a rude gesture. Maybe one day she'd actually do it in front of her, just for the shock factor. She'd like to think that Shawn would actually be proud that his sister had given up her angelic ways and 'turned to the dark side', as he'd probably put it.

But as her humour faded, her mind was enveloped by worried thoughts once more. She remembered her lost friend and confidant, Daryl Dixon, carving arrows out of tree branches. He'd had to make his own arrows and hunt food for their entire group for more than two years. It was a lot of pressure for just one person. Surely he would definitely appreciate more arrows, made especially for a crossbow. Her stomach felt twisted and her heart ached, if only she had the funds.

Beth sighed, whilst she was not exactly in a stressful situation, the fact that there was so much unknown is what irritated her the most. Was there a point to anything anymore? Maybe she really _had_ just had one vivid, realistic, and crazy dream. Perhaps she should even check herself into a mental hospital. But she wouldn't, not really. She entertained the thought for less than a second. It's not because she doesn't already think that she's half crazy, but because when the dead start walking, locked in a hospital is the last place she wants to be.

Being locked in a hospital is possibly the worst thing she can think of. It's almost enough for Beth to want to break down right there and then, to climb back into her bed upstairs, bury her head into the pillows and lay there for the rest of her life. But she won't, she's stronger than that. So she drinks some milk in the kitchen, straight from the bottle, and then heads out to start doing her morning chores.

Later that day realizes that she can't bring herself to feel sorry for stealing, so she plasters a sorrowful look onto her face and apologises to both her mother and father for her actions at the grocery store. She even manages to make her eyes water and one lone tear falls from her eye, dripping onto the carpet of the living room where they're seated. She promises to read passages from her bible every night to help her relearn the error of her ways, and to gain God's forgiveness. Outwardly, she's a tearful teenager, sorry for her wrongdoings. But on the inside, she's made of solid steel, hard to the core. She doesn't want them to worry about her. She wants them to enjoy the last few months of happiness they're likely to get.

From that day forward, Beth resolves to strengthen herself, both physically and mentally. So she goes running in the mornings and increases her nightly exercises, which she does in the privacy of her room at night. She hoards as much tinned food as she is able to get away with, and before she knows it, she's going on longer runs, and she's able to do more push ups and sit ups every day. She's no closer to coming up with a good source of survival supplies until the next weekend, when she's out grocery shopping with her mother - and she's closely supervised the entire time they shop.

She watches her mother swipe the little black card into the eftpos machine, selecting credit. That's when she has her epiphany.

-.-

Wow, I definitely did not plan on taking this chapter here, and I don't even know if I like it… What was Beth's epiphany? I guess I won't find out until I write it! I'd like to hear everyone's thoughts on this chapter. It was probably a bit more introspective than the others. Thanks to those who reviewed chapter three: Blueberry, Hidden Rose in a Galaxy, missgwen33 and moriahhh.


	5. Chapter 5

Money would be forgotten after things went to hell. Washington or Franklin – all forgotten. No one would care how many zeroes were on anyone's bank statement and not one single person would be considered rich or poor. They'd only be considered dead, or alive.

Beth definitely knew that, after the dead would soon begin to devour the living, no one would care if she racked up a huge bill on some credit cards. The only problem was that she couldn't _get_ any in the first place - she was too young to have her own credit card. So she found herself sitting at the kitchen table, eyes glued to her mother's handbag.

All she had to do was open the zipper, reach inside, and pull out her mother's credit cards. It would be that easy. But would it be worth it? Was it worth the risk of her family finding out that she'd stolen money from them? If she thought she could get away with it, she would have already taken the cards down to the closest store and bought all the canned food she could get. But she guessed that sometime in the next seven months - the measly seven months of peace left before the dead started walking - her parents would discover the odd purchases on their bank statements.

Even so, her hand still inched over towards her mother's bag. She'd nearly reached it when the _slam_ of the screen door had her pulling her hand back as quickly as if she'd been burnt. Soft humming reached her ears, and she heard her mother's footsteps coming closer. She recognised the familiar old tune that her mother was humming, a sad song her parents had on one of their dusty old records, and the lyrics of it escaped Beth's mouth: _"_ _Make the world go away, and get it off my shoulders."_

Her mother smiled, white teeth flashing bright in the sun as she entered the kitchen and she sang the next line of the song: _"Say the things you used to say, and make the world go away."_

With a pang of despair, Beth wished so badly that her memories of the future would _really_ go away. The hurt and heartbreak were sometimes too much for her. Memories of the deaths of her friends and family would cross her mind daily in a never-ending loop of loss. She was _tired_ \- of remembering, of having to constantly fight uphill battles against enemies who _never_ tired. She was upset that Judith, an innocent baby, would be born into the madness of this world.

She was startled out of her thoughts as her mother wrapped her in a one-armed hug.

"Bethy?" Her mother's questioning voice brought Beth back into focus, and she turned towards her, staring deep into her grass-green eyes.

Like her Daddy had always said: _"the eyes were windows to the soul"._ She could see conflicting emotions in the depths of those green eyes. Pride - regret - happiness - sorrow. The emotions flickered back and forth quickly, too quickly for her to even see some of them. And Beth's voice, which had moments before been singing, was now stuck in her throat.

Her mother took a seat beside her at the small round table, reaching forward to take both of Beth's hands into her own. She squeezed gently and Beth was hit by the guilt at her earlier thoughts. Her mother loved her and had only been strict on her because of her unusual actions last weekend. Once she'd apologised, her father had forgiven her easily. But she'd inherited her stubborn personality from her mother, who for the past week had sent her searching looks, trying to find some reason for her daughter's strange actions.

Beth was still trying to reconcile the person she used to be with who she was now. She found it hard to act all _sunshine and daisies_ when _really_ her mind was turning, churning through and analysing her memories over and over again. She smiled weakly at her mother, her eyes stinging and filling with tears.

"Oh sweetie," Annette wrapped her daughter in another hug. "I'm so sorry I've been stern with you. I love you. You know that, right?"

Beth nodded her head against her mother's shoulder, where it had fallen in her mother's strong, loving embrace. She'd longed to hear those words from her mother for so long. Tears spilled out over her eyelashes, trailing down her cheeks. After such a long time without the presence of her loving and caring mother and with the stress of her current predicament constantly imposing its pressure against her, Beth finally broke down.

Her shoulders shook as sobs wracked through her body. She couldn't remember having ever cried so much. Her mother continued humming that sad old song – by Eddy Arnold, she suddenly remembered – and stroking her hair. She felt safe in her mother's embrace, as if she could tell her anything. But that lump in her throat wouldn't move, and the secrets were too big to say aloud.

Once Beth had finally quieted down, her mother spoke.

"I know I was tough on you last week, Beth. You've worked hard at your chores since you apologised, and I'm sorry I didn't believe you when you told me what you'd done was an accident."

Beth's hands twitched and pulled desperately at her mother's shirt sleeves, where they rested, as the truth about who she was – then and now – and what she was going to do settled insider her mind: she couldn't do it. The guilt was too much. She couldn't steal from her parents. There had to be another way for her to find the funds to collect supplies. But for now, in her mother's embrace, Beth let the thought of the future and supplies trickle away and out of her mind.

"I love you, Momma," she whispered.

The two Greene women, relationship restored from its previous strain, spent the rest of the day baking sweet biscuits and cookies for the upcoming Church bake sale. Her mother turned up the radio and Beth's earlier sadness transformed into a bittersweet joy. She wished she could spend the rest of her days cooking in the kitchen and singing with her momma.

-.-

The next evening, Beth sat on the faded blue rug in the middle of her bedroom floor, huffing and puffing. Her stomach burned from the sit-ups, and her neck felt strained. She stretched her arms up towards the ceiling, and rolled her head around left and right. With a sigh, she flipped onto her stomach, braced her feet against the ground, and started her push-ups.

While her body worked, arms pumping up and down, she thought about what she could do. Shawn had mentioned taking a trip to Atlanta on Tuesday to catch up with some friends. Maybe she could tag along for the ride there and back? Come to think of it, Beth had never seen Maggie's dorm room at college. Perhaps she could pay her a visit?

The thought put a smile onto her face, and she realised that maybe she'd, _sort of_ , get to experience what college was like before the end of the world came and obliterated the very notion of it.

 _'_ _Maybe Maggie will take me to a couple of classes, or maybe even a party. No one would know.'_ She grinned at the thought.

College education - she'd given up on the idea once schools had shut down. Originally, at sixteen, all her life had been planned out. She was to become a veterinarian's assistant and help her Daddy at the clinic. Maggie was studying business - at their parents' behest - to help with the paperwork side of things when she graduated, and when Shawn finished his year of work to save up for classes, he'd become a Veterinarian Doctor, just like Daddy.

She remembered how much pressure the teachers had put on them in school. They had to attend every class, get good grades and – "Oh no, high school!" Beth practically screamed the words as she fell into a heap on the floor, arms burning.

She still had to go to high school.

It was already August 9th and, at the end of the month, she'd have to start the new school year. Sit in class with people she'd seen die, through lessons she'd already learned. She couldn't think of a bigger waste of time – not with how her mind now worked.

Beth groaned, burrowing her head into her forearms, still lying on her stomach. She had friends at school. Friends who she'd never heard from after the collapse of society to the undying dead. Would she even be able to face them? She'd already made up her mind to save her family, but could she save everyone else? Was it possible?

Her stomach felt sick at the thought - or perhaps she was feeling queasy from the exercise. Either way, she pressed her hand into her stomach to try and stave off the nausea. The telephone ringing downstairs caught her attention and she sat up slowly.

Beth glanced to her bedside table, looking at the little pink alarm clock. It read 8:15pm.

 _'_ _Who would ring at this time of night?'_ she pondered.

That question was soon answered, as there was a knock at her bedroom door.

"Beth, Jimmy's on the phone for you."

Her heart seemed to stop in her chest. Jimmy. Of course. How could she have forgotten her first boyfriend? Images of the flaming barn and farm overrun with walkers flickered behind her now-closed eyelids. Jimmy had driven the RV down to the barn and he'd never returned. Rick had told her that he'd saved his life – and Carl's.

She'd been dating Jimmy - James Parrish - for a year already at this time. She remembered that he'd been sweaty and nervous when he first asked her out on a date to the cinema. He'd been working part-time as a farmhand on their property for two months by then, and she had enjoyed watching him work outside in the hot Georgia sun. She'd thought he was sweet and, at one time, all she'd ever wanted was to be Jimmy's girlfriend.

But she'd mourned his loss. She'd let her feelings for him - her naïve, child-like infatuation that she'd claimed was love - drift away on the wind. After her mother and brother had been laid to rest in the yard with Carol's daughter, Sophia, she'd felt empty. There was a hole, black and all-encompassing, in her heart, and it only ever seemed to grow bigger with every new loss. And Jimmy was just one of many losses.

The scars on her wrist were the result of those terribly dark feelings. Daryl's rough voice echoed in her mind, _'I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention.'_

After her self-inflicted reality check, she'd gotten better; the black hole in her chest remained static and constant, never widening. When Judith was born, she was terribly sorry for the loss of Lori, but lil' ass kicker was a beam of sunshine, and every laugh, giggle and smile was enough to slowly fill her heart once more. Then her father had been murdered by the Governor. She thought she'd lost all hope, even going so far as to discard her own safety, as well as Daryl's by proxy, by looking for alcohol.

Daryl.

He'd saved her, and her feelings for him had grown exponentially. He'd become the one person in her life she didn't think she could live without. He'd made her a better person, and she liked to think that she'd made him a better person too.

"Beth?" Her wandering thoughts were disrupted by her mother's voice, which had become a little louder behind the door of her bedroom.

She got up off of the floor and made her way to the door. Cracking it open, she smiled tightly at her mother, accepting the cordless phone.

"Now don't stay up too late talking all night, you hear?" Her mother grinned, raising her eyebrows.

"I won't Momma." She agreed.

Her mother walked back downstairs, where Beth knew she and daddy had been watching a movie together, and she closed her door softly, listening to the latch click shut. Her free hand braced against the door, and she leaned into the cool wooden surface.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she raised the phone to her ear, "Hey Jimmy."

"Beth. Sorry to ring so late, but I just wanted to let you know we got back today. I missed you." His voice was sweet, soft in her ear, like a pleasant memory. She struggled to remember what he was talking about.

"I got you a present, but you'll have to wait 'til Monday for it." He continued.

"Well… Thanks, I guess." It was all she could get out.

"You _guess_?" His tone seemed teasing, "Didn't you miss me?"

"Oh. Uh – yeah." She let out a nervous laugh – well, a sound that she thought could have passed as a laugh. It was more of a high-pitched squeak. Not a sound she'd meant to make, but her nerves were getting to her.

"I can't wait to see you again. I just want to hold you." His voice lowered an octave, and she remembered late night phone calls, and the two of them sneaking out one night to watch the stars. Jimmy had laid down a blanket, and they'd held hands the entire time, even as their lips touched, tentatively, for the first time.

They'd never gone far - just kissing and embracing. She was saving herself for marriage, and Jimmy respected that. She'd once happily dreamed that the two of them would have a two-story house with a white picket fence. They'd even have a mail box with 'Parrish' written in gold lettering.

That dream had long been forgotten and a new one had been built in its place. A dream where she felt safe and sound in strong, muscular arms that were tanned from the sun. Summers would be spent hunting game in the woods, and maybe they'd have a place they could call home. But there was _definitely_ no white picket fence, no golden retriever or 2.5 kids – not in _this_ dream. Just the two of them, safe, and together.

It was that thought, suddenly invading her mind, which made her realise -

"Jimmy," Her voice was hard, colder than she'd meant it to be. "We need to talk."

-.-

This story is turning out to be much more slowly paced than I thought it would be. An enormous thankyou to my amazingly talented beta-reader, **CL** , who encourages and inspires me. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, favourite and followed. Your continued support means a lot. I hope you have all enjoyed this chapter.


End file.
